


Dark Harvest

by Omg_Chloe_Answer_Me_Whoa, SeerofHope_KnightofDoom



Category: South Park
Genre: AU, Gen, The Society Shall Rise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3916264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omg_Chloe_Answer_Me_Whoa/pseuds/Omg_Chloe_Answer_Me_Whoa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeerofHope_KnightofDoom/pseuds/SeerofHope_KnightofDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete knew that the Vamp kids were conformist posers, especially Mike, but he never expected for them to do anything like this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Society Attacks

**Author's Note:**

> Collaboration with my dear friend, drummergirllex, on Tumblr. Is rated Mature for dark theme and language that appear as the chapters progresses.
> 
> This story also contains hints of Creek, Bratters, and hints of Pike and Meek in later chapters.

“Pete, you didn’t have to walk me home. You of all people know I have my switchblade on my person at all times”

“Yeah, but there’s been a large number of child abductions in your neighborhood recently.” Pete explained to the younger as he shortly paused to take a drag from the cigarette in his hand. “Me, Michael, and Henrietta have all agreed that one of us would have to be with you at all times after sundown. We just don’t want our most non-conformist member being taken by any of those Britney and Justin wannabes.”

“I know, but it’s still demeaning.” Firkle grumbled. He crossed his arms and gave a bit of a pout.

The two of them rounded a corner, but before any other conversation could be stirred up, they met an unpleasant sight.

“Ugh, Vamps.” Pete sneered in disgust. He kept his voice low to avoid attracting their attention. The less he had to deal with them - and all conformists, really - the better.

“I know.” Firkle agreed as he eyed the two, almost translucent pale teens mere feet from them in repulsion. “I should have warned you; I live near Vamp kid territory. I see at least two of them a night on my walks home.”

“Let’s just go the long way then.”

Both liked this idea, and thus, headed down the opposite street - fully content to get as far away from those poser vampires as possible. After about three and a half blocks, the two then made a left, but to their surprise, saw two more vamp kids under a nearby street-light.

“Damn, they’re like roaches.” Pete observed with a glare. He rolled his eyes at them, then muttered to Firkle, “Looks like we have to go through.”

Neither of them really wanting to do it, Pete and Firkle then continued walking down the street regardless, and soon enough, were calmly passing the two Vamps.

However, both noted something rather bizarre.

The contact-colored red eyes of both Vamps seemed to follow them as they went by, and even as they made their way down the street, both swore they heard barely noticeable footsteps that trailed behind them. Their suspicions were soon confirmed when both quickly glanced behind them, and found the two posers they had passed earlier following them at a relatively close distance. 

“...Pete, this is getting creepy.” Firkle whispered to the other. 

“You’re telling me.” Pete whispered back. “I mean, these posers have always been annoying, but following us is a whole new level of weird; even for them.”

It was then that the two mentally decided try and shake their pursuers, and thus, picked up their pace. Of course, the second they began to move faster, they found the people behind them just matched their speed. Concerned, Pete then began to lead Firkle down random streets in an attempt to throw off the faux vamps, but nothing seemed to shake the persistence pair. The pattern continued for several more minutes without a single word, but it hadn't been until the older had lead him and the younger into an abandoned alleyway that either of them acknowledged their vampiric stalkers.

“Would you posers just fuck off already?” Firkle exclaimed as he whipped around to face the two; prepared to grab the switchblade from his back pocket at any moment.

“My, my, what foul language.” The vamp girl with silver hair said in a playful tone. “I suggest you learn to control your tongue, Goth. Our leader just hates potty mouths.”

“Why the Hell would we care what fucking Vamp-Queer thinks of us anyway.” Pete hissed.

"Yeah, we're not scared of that faggy poser." Firkle added.

“You two just don’t get it, do you?” The boy spoke up; his mouth curled into a wide enough smirk where his fake fangs showed through. “Vampir has requested both of your presences. We were simply sent as the collectors.”

“Okay, I don’t know what sort of shit you’ve been smoking, but me and Firkle aren’t going anywhere with you conformists.”

“Is that so?” The girl asked with a Cheshire-Cat like smile. “Well, who says you get a choice?”

“I do.” Pete said firmly. “Now I’ve had just about enough of this bullshit. Come on Firkle, let’s-” The Goth then grabbed down to where Firkle’s small hand hand should be, but grasps only air. He then looks down, and to his dismay finds that his young companion had vanished into thin air. “What the- Firkle?!” 

“Now you see how serious we are.” The boy spoke up.

“That’s right, and since we have your little friend now, there’s no reason not to comply with us,” The girl continued. “Just come quietly and things won’t have to get messy.”

“What the fuck have you conformist vampire posers done with Firkle?!” Pete yelled at the two, not even giving any attention to their words. “I swear to god if you hurt a single hair on his head, I will hunt you down, and skin you both alive!”

“Such defiance,” The boy said before tsking. “Looks like he’s all yours, fellas.”

Pete heard something rustle behind him, but just as he was about to whip around, two other Vamp-kids that had been crouched in the shadows of the alley tackled him to the ground. Once they had his arms subdued, the Vamp that had pinned down his upper body then took out a syringe of clear liquid, and stabbed it mercilessly into the Goth’s neck.

The drug took effect in seconds, and Pete’s whole world became consumed in a sea of blackness - the image of the four faux-vampires being the last thing he saw before he slipped into a deep state of unconsciousness.


	2. Firkle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the beginning of when the Mature rating comes into play.  
> If I happened to mislabel the rating, and needs to be changed, please feel free to tell me and I'll get it corrected as soon as I possibly can.
> 
> This will also be the part of this particular story I post today. I will most likely add chapters 3 and 4 up tomorrow, or possible even more if it gets a good response.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this, and be prepared for the feels that are to come.

When Pete awoke again, he felt sharp pain in his wrists. His mind was groggy, but he felt as if he wasn't entirely supported, either.

He heard a faint, little voice calling his name through his fuzzed sense. It was familiar, and he instinctively made an attempt to stand at the call. 

"Pete!" it called. 

Was it the voice that called all mortal souls to the afterlife, perhaps?

As senses slowly returned to him; the Goth realized that was Firkle who had screamed for help and not an angel of death. 

"Pete!" he cried. The terror in his voice was painful for Pete to hear. It cleared his senses as a rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins.

"Firkle! What the hell?! Are you okay? What's going on?!"

The younger fought tears, and his pure panic was the dominant emotion in his eyes. Pete felt his heart give a twinge of guilt at the smallers terror, but his sadness swiftly turned into anger as at the realization of who did this to them. 

"Those fucking posers are gonna pay the next time I see them." Pete hissed through clenched teeth. 

Of course, there were more obvious things that took priority at the moment over revenge, so the older just made a note to save it till later before scanning the area for possible methods of escape from their confinements. 

Of course, seconds after he began looking; Pete spotted four forms from the corner of his gaze. Curious, he then squinted to try and make out the figures in the darkness, and on the opposite side of whatever room they had been dragged into, he managed to identify the people he had seen: Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Butters Stotch and Bradley Whipple. They were all knocked out in their respective cages, but the discover of their presence didn't make sense to the older Goth. Sure, he understood why the vampires would attack the Goths, but why them? Why these relatively normal kids?

Unless…

Unless the vampires were the ones behind all the recent kidnappings in South Park.

"Pete...I-I'm scared. I-I just want to go home…"

A voice came from the darkness, familiar and malicious. "I'm sure you do." The familiar figure then stepped forward into the dim light of the room. His fake fangs glinted as his mouth twisted into a dark, psychotic grin.

It was the head conformist himself; Mike "Vampir" Makowski.

"Though, I must say, I am slightly offended you'd want to my lair so soon after waking. Makes me almost wonder if we're friends."

"We're not, you goddamned poser." Pete stated in a blunt manner as he gave Mike the sharpest death-glare he could. "Now tell us what the fuck is going on here, or I swear, I'll beat your ass into a blood pulp once I'm free!"

Mike's grin grew wider. "Direct as always, I see. Well, if you must know, Peter, me and my minions are just being vampires. We just had to get creative, pre se."

Pete gave a sneer as the other purposely said the wrong name, but then confusion swept over him once more.

He knew - hell, everyone knew - that the vampire kids weren't real vampires. Their fangs were more fake than the average conformist poser. For them, if they wanted blood, they'd have to get it some other way.

"Wait...you...you mean bloodletting?" Pete muttered after a moment as the realization dawned on him. Mike just gave a quick nod of his head, and Pete felt a sickly feeling rise in his stomach. He had heard of demented, hard-core cultist groups performing these types of sacrifices where they'd drain the blood of helpless victims to drink it, but he never imagined actually being dragged to one. The other then looked to his little friend, in a moment of terror, realized he was handcuffed a chair instead of being in restrained. "No! Release Firkle from that chair this instant, you fucker!"

Mike gave a chuckle. "But why would I do that? He was going to be the first, and since you're insistent on being so rude, you're going to watch."

The vampire-wannabe then strolled casually up to the helpless kindergartener, and took two syringes from the table next to the chair before beginning to connect them to tubing. Pete momentarily thought of how they looked like they were once used for giving blood for donations...but this wasn't charitable. This was plain theft.

Pete would have gave anything in his power to stop him at that moment. Firkle was like his little brother. He - while easily a startling little child - never really did anything to deserve this. No one did; maybe not even Mike. But unfortunately, he was restrained, and was as helpless as one could be in a situation like this. The Goth discovered he was tied to something cold and made of wires - maybe a metallic bed, minus the mattress. His wrists and ankles were restrained with handcuffs as well. He pulled at them, willing for them to break. Alas, it was futile. He just wasn't strong enough.

In his fury, he shouted at the perpetrator. "YOU LAY A HAND ON HIM AND YOU WON'T LIVE TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY, YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Threats don't work on me anymore, Peter." Mike replies, his voice going slightly monotone.

Without another word, he pierced the flesh of Firkle's neck with the syringes; directly in the spot where he would sink in his fangs if they wouldn't break off under the pressure. Red liquid soon began pouring from the pipes, and flowed into a waiting wine-glass Pete guessed Mike set up when he had been trying to break free. Firkle screamed from the pain, but then continued at the sight of so much of his blood flowing freely from his body through the tubes.

After a moment, the wine glass became full of the thick substance, and Mike carefully moved the start of the tubing to a nearby container on the floor; as to not spill a drop. He then plucked the glass from the small side table before heading over to Pete with a victorious swagger.

He smiled right in the others face. "Fear makes the blood flow faster. Adrenaline gets the heart pumping. Makes for less mess. Want a sip?"

"Fuck you!" Pete snapped with a slight snarl. "You got what you wanted, okay?! Get those things out of Firkle before he's sucked dry!"

The taller simply gave a dark chuckle before taking a quick sip from the glass in his hand. "But Pete, that's the whole idea."

The Goth blinked in complete befuddlement, but then the other's true intention dawns on him. 

"No...goddamnit, NO! I'm not letting you kill Firkle, you Bastard!"

"I'm afraid you're already too late to help him." Mike informed; a malicious smirk returning to his features.

"Pete!" Firkle's voice sobbed out in desperation, but also sounding weak. The older Goth then looked to the younger, and, to his horror, found that his small body was now paler than it had ever been. Tears continued to flow down his now paper-white cheeks, and his hazel-colored eyes had widen in panic and fear. "P-Please…h-help...! I-I don't…..have m-much time…!"

"N-No!" Pete screams out. He then gave a firm yank on his restraints in the hope they might finally break, but to no avail. Tears threatened to run down his face, but the Goth knew he couldn't show weakness around an evil such as Mike. So, he merely swallowed them back before he spoke once more. "Goddamnit Mike, stop this now!"

"And miss out on watching you squirm? Never."

"Fuck you, you conformist!"

"Pete…" The small voice was almost missed.

The older Goth then directed his attention back to his friend, and saw that he had somehow paled even more in the split second his eyes had left him. Tears welled in the youngers eyes as he battled to keep them from shutting, and after he discovered it was a fight he couldn't win, simply looked to his friend with the most apologetic look he could muster.

"...Pete…I…I'm so sorry…I wasn't strong enough...to save us..."

And that was it.

The machine had finished it's job. The tubing of red liquid then sent the last of the kindergartener's blood to the container, and then everything went silent. Pete simply stared, mouth agape, at his friends lifeless corpse for several minutes before he found his voice.

"...you...you killed him. You killed my little brother…"

It was then that Pete did something he hadn't since childhood.

He allowed the tears he had fought back earlier to flow down his cheeks without so much as an attempt to keep them hidden from his attacker.

"Aw, it's touching seeing you cry over your friend, Pete." Mike commented in a tone that dripped with pure tease. "Makes it seem like you actually have feelings."

The comment was a low blow, even for Mike, and a sneer formed on Pete's lips at it, and when he found his voice, gave the harshest reply he could.

"...go fuck yourself."

The expression Mike held vanished from his features, and a cold, vengeful one took its place.

It was then Pete knew he'd just fucked up royally, but no force on earth could have prepared him for what was to come.

"You know Pete, I feel like I should punish you for swearing so much...but hey, I'm a nice guy." Mike said; his voice projected in an expressionless manner. "So nice, in fact, that I'm going to insist that you finish the rest of my drink."

The Goth's eyes widened in terror, but it was already too late for him to react.

The faux vampire then held the wine-glass of blood up to Pete's lips, and forcibly tilted the others head back. Pete cringed as the red, thick substance hit his tongue, and metal taste soon followed. The more he was forced to ingest, the more his stomach began to churn, and after what seemed like forever, the last drop in the glass finally passed into his mouth. Mike then allowed his captive to go back to his original position, and smirked down upon the other once more.

"There. Didn't that taste wonderful?" Mike asked; though he already knew the answer.

The other wanted to respond with a harsh remark, but his stomach churned so uneasily that he was almost positive he would puke if he even attempted to open his mouth. So instead, he kept silent, and forced himself to endure Mike's taunts.

"Now, since that's taken care of, all that's left to do is dispose of the body before-"

"HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS CHRIST!"


	3. Tweek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter three.
> 
> Sorry it took so long, but since school's coming back in session tomorrow, I should be able to get back onto a normal uploading schedule soon.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

The shrill voice caused both males jump in surprise, and not more than two feet from them, a now awake Tweek starred in horror at Firkle's lifeless body.

"Dear god, y-you killed him!" Tweek screeched. "Y-YOU KILLED HIM, A-And now you're gonna kill all of us! I-I'm probably Next! GAH! Someone help!"

"Ugh, I told those idiots to use twice the medicine on this guy, but big shock, they didn't listen." Mike grumbled as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "Look's like I'll be having to deal with him early."

If Pete had not been so focused on the retched feeling that overwhelmed his stomach, caused by both the blood and the knowledge he had failed Firkle, he might have noticed that Craig had just stirred from slumber. It had been started thanks to Tweek, and the other had became aware of the situation. Or, at least aware enough to have gathered Tweek had become distressed. 

Meanwhile, Mike rolled his eyes as the twitch blonde continued on before he stalked over to where he had had Tweek restrained. 

"Jesus Christ, shut up!" Mike snapped. "You're as loud as you are annoying!" This caused Tweek to go silent, and Mike spoke once more. "Good. Keep it that way. Now, do you want some coffee?"

"N-Not from you!" Tweek answers. "There's p-probably blood in it!"

"But you do want coffee?" The older clarified, the question rhetorical. "Of course. When don't you?" Mike turned to face the darkness before he barked to his cronies. "Hey! One of you bring me some coffee!"

Someone hurried in from the shadows, and gave him a mug that appeared to have the Starbucks logo on it before they retreated to where they had been.

"S… S-Starbucks?" Tweek asked. It just struck him as off that the person who planned to kill him off had offered such a tasty concoction.

"Don't do it, Tweek!" Craig called out. The other had finally wriggled out from the fog of sleep, and had become enraged at the scenario his innocent friend had gotten dragged into. Pete closed his eyes and wondered briefly if he sounded half as desperate crying out for Firkle. Poor kindergartener never stood a chance, the goth realized. Tweek, however, had different circumstances. He had been stronger, much more developed than Firkle.

The faux-vampire's torture would last much longer for him.

Mike unscrewed the lid to the styrofoam cup. Even in the dark, steam could be seen as it rose from the brew. The taller then simply flicked his wrist, and sent the hot liquid cascaded toward the trapped boy. It soon landed, and seared the others exposed skin before it soaked into his clothing. Tweek cried out in agony. While distracted by the burns, Mike unhooked the blonde from his confinement, and dragged him to Firkle's dead body.

He kicked the corpse out of the chair, and shoved Tweek in his place. 

"Tweek! No!" Craig cried out as his friend was strapped down. It was only a matter of time before he, too, would be drained of blood. Craig knew this, but instead of being scared, rage oozed from his very core. "I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU, Makowski! You hear me?! You are FUCKING DEAD."

"Pretty big words for someone in your position, Tucker." Mike said as he smirked victoriously. He then turned his head, and once again, barked order. "Bloodrayne! Vladimir! Bring in a new container for the blood, and another glass!"

In seconds, the two appeared from the shadows, and did as their their dark master commanded without hesitation. Pete only caught their appearance long enough to realize that it was the same boy and girl that had jumped him and Firkle in the alleyway earlier.

The two were undoubtedly doing this to get in good in with their leader; given the fact that the two were known straight-A students with a known phobia of blood. Pete wondered as they left if they ever feared the same fate as the captured; that they too would one day end up strapped in the chair.

As soon as the two left, Mike closed in on Tweek. He glanced at Pete for only a second, his blood stained teeth being revealed as a smirked dominated his features. His gaze returned to the victim at hand before he spoke again. "Such pain you've endured, little one. Your heart pounds faster already, thanks your daily consumption of caffeine." Mike paused. "If I cut you, would you bleed coffee? I suppose there's only one way to find out."

The faux vampire titled Tweek's head just enough to expose the flesh on the others neck that had been burned earlier by the hot liquid, and without care, jabbed the syringes into the scarred, red skin. The twitchy blonde gave an intense yell of pain as he started to fight against his restraints, and meanwhile, Craig struggled harder to get free of his own entrapment - along with shouted curses and death threated aimed toward Mike. Blood once again began to flow through the tubes, and once Mike had filled his glass to the brim, savored a of the red liquid - enjoying it with a satisfied smile.

"Just as I predicted; tastes just like a cappuccino." Mike announced. "I might not get a caffeine buzz off that, per se, but still."

"You FUCKER!" Craig howled. "How DARE you do this to my friend!"

A low chuckle produced from Mike. "Just your friend, huh?" The taller paused for a scoff before he continued. "Please, everyone in South Park knows the truth."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Craig sneered.

"Don't play coy," The taller retorted. The head vampire turned to the captured Goth. "Hey! Pete! Weren't Tweek and Craig obvious?"

Pete flinched at the sound of his name being called. He strengthened his resolve, and sneered at his captor before he spoke through clenched teeth. "I will not... partake... in any of this... poser bullshit, Vamp-Queer."

"Don't be pretentious." Mike scoffed. "You saw how they'd avoid talking to each other to avoid attracting attention." He returned his attention to the hooded child, his smile wicked as he stalked toward the other. "Hell, you guys didn't even lookat one another. Some people were concerned you two weren't friends anymore. But on the rare chance you did meet gaze, you'd see a spark. Love."

"Poetic," Pete sneered.

Despite the snark, Craig's face heated up with a light blush. However, the dire situation snapped him back into reality, and he did the only logic based thing his brain processed. He flipped off the Vampiric leader.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sooffended by your cruel, cruel gesture, Tucker!" He laughed at his own sarcasm. "Of course, no matter how many times you flip me off, you can't hide the truth." The fake vampire then paused to think, and his widened smirk soon revealed that he had come up with another twisted idea. "Although...since you say Tweek here is merely your friend; you won't have a problem with me doing this."

Without another word, Mike strolled over Tweek, took ahold of the blonde's chin to keep his head in place, and captured the shorter in a forced kiss.

Tweek's dark-brown eyes widened, and the other immediately attempted to pull away from the demented older, being forced in place by Mike's tightened grip - along with slight pain due to the syringes in his neck. Meanwhile, Craig's face reddened in rage as their kidnapper continued to kiss the blonde, and Pete just stared at the scene in disgusted surprise.

"You sick, poser bastard…" Pete whispered. What scared him more, however, was the fact Mike met his gaze while still in the forced kiss, and gave a wink. Pete, to say the least, did not like what the other implied.

"You let GO OF HIM you SADISTIC FUCK!" Craig shouted. Even from where Pete had been held, he could tell it soon wouldn't matter what their kidnapper did with the tweaked-out blonde; the others skin having already paled to two shades lighter than it had been.

Tweek occasionally twitched as he gathered there was no escape, and moved at a minimum so the pain would be decreased. However, once Tweek locked eyes with Craig, the expression on his face revealed he'd realized some last words he still needed to say. Pete watched as he tried to pull away from his torturer, determined to talk to his friend before he bled out. 

The blond struggled for what seemed like years, but got out what he wanted to regardless. 

"Craig, Pete, I… I'm… I'm s… sorry!"

"Don't apologize, Tweek." Pete reassured before he sent a glare toward the head vampire. It's not your fault. None of us deserve this."

"I hope you burn in HELL, motherfucker!" Craig shrieked; being so consumed with rage that he ignored Pete altogether.

"That's the idea," Mike teased as he pulled away from Tweek's lips. The hooded boys glared only intensified, but melted into an expression of worry when he caught sight of Tweek slumped over in the chair.

"Tweek?" Craig asked slowly. The other stayed quiet. "Tweek, say something! Please!" 

It was too late, though. 

Tweek already bled out, and only Mike smirked as Craig continued to plead to his dead friend - Pete all the while feeling the sick sensation in his stomach worsen as the hooded boy across the room shrieked and screamed.


End file.
